


up to you

by ThaliaClio



Series: Guacamole [1]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Avocados at Law, But her pancakes are pretty good, Couch Cuddles, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drinking Games, Drunk couch cuddles, F/M, Fluff, Foggy makes great hangover food, Humor, Karen makes shitty coffee, M/M, Matt's eye crinkles, Multi, OT3, Pre-OT3, Pre-Slash, everything is happiness and cuddles, guacamole, references to other Marvel characters - Freeform, they make a really pretty fuckpuddle, they're just so cute, this was a drabble but it keeps going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:48:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThaliaClio/pseuds/ThaliaClio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That one AU nobody asked for where Matt and Karen are neighbors.</p><p>Meeting your sort-of-girlfriend's incredibly attractive male neighbor while naked and reeking of last night's beer with a killer hangover leaves awkward in an entirely separate universe.</p><p>Or the one where everyone makes terrible puns and is terribly dorky, and Karen and Foggy learn to love vodka as much as Matt does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saturday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy knows the taste of his own foot a little too well. Matt is kind of a troll. Karen gets her payback.

The first time Foggy meets Mat is -- awkward.

Yeah. That’s a nice way of putting it. _Awkward_. _Awkward_ is making eye contact with a stranger. _Awkward_ is forgetting your conversation partner’s name.

“So, uh. Hi.”

Meeting your sort-of-girlfriend's new neighbor while naked is a little more than fucking _awkward_.

  
Meeting your sort-of-girlfriend's incredibly attractive male neighbor while naked and reeking of last night's beer with a killer hangover leaves _awkward_ in an entirely separate universe.

Said neighbor is smiling gently, like this is a normal Saturday morning and there’s not a naked man standing in front of his neighbor’s door.

Were Foggy less hungover and embarrassed, he might’ve said that the man’s smile was like the sun shining through a cloudy day. As it stood, though, all Foggy could process was 'Handsome Duck' and that the smell of the man’s coffee made him want to puke.

And -- “Anyone ever tell you that those glasses are a little Natural Born Killers?”

Foggy’s mouth is intimately familiar with the taste of his foot.

One of the man’s hands jerks towards his face and that’s when Foggy notices the white cane dangling from a strap on his wrist.

“Oh shit, you’re blind.”

Foggy thinks he can taste the bar floor from last night his foot is so deep down his throat.

But then the man laughs and it sounds feels like a Gatorade and a handful of Advil and a Bloody Mary.

Also the man apparently has no idea Foggy is naked so -- yay.

“Yeah, I’m blind. And you smell like Josie’s bar floor.”

Foggy blinks. “You know Josie’s?”

He smiles again and this time Foggy sees the sunshine. “Yeah. She owes me a favor or two. Lets me drink for free most nights.”

Foggy smiles back. “I’m smiling by the way. And shaking my head. Because nobody drinks for free at Josie’s. You must’ve saved her first-born or something.”

The man shakes his head. “Or something.” He’s stepped forward enough that he’s only two feet away from Foggy _(and Foggy’s dick)_ but really he’s just going to unlock the door to his own apartment.

“My name’s Foggy, by the way,” he jumps in, desperate to keep Handsome Duck outside _(with him)_ for just a little bit longer.

“Matt,” Handsome Duck replies with another sunshiny smile, pausing just before he puts the key in the lock. “Do you know Karen well?”

“Yeah. She and I work for the same company. Landman & Zach?”

“Yeah, I know them. I almost took an internship there.” Matt’s smile gets a little dimmer.

“I mean, if you wanted to hear about all the reasons why you were right not to take an internship there, I’m sure Karen would love to get to know her new neighbor.”

“Yeah, alright,” he says with a laugh. “Not today, though -- unpacking. Just couldn’t face it without coffee.” Matt lifts up his cup of Starbucks like it’s the Holy Grail.

“Maybe Karen and I will come harass -- _help,_ I mean help -- you unpack after I manage to get her to answer the door."

Foggy regrets the words almost as soon as he’s said them. Matt was clearly avoiding him, he didn’t want to hang out, he wasn’t interested, stupid Foggy, come o--

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Matt says and his smile is as bright as it ever was. “You know where I live -- I’ll leave the door unlocked.” He twists the key in the knob and opens up the door.

Foggy’s about to say _bye_ or _see you later_ or mayb _e kind of trusting for Hell’s Kitchen_ but he’s too busy checking out Matt’s -- very, very nice -- ass, and Matt’s turned around to say something else before he can manage any words.

“Maybe put on some clothes before you come over.” Foggy inhales his own spit. “Or not. Up to you.”

Matt’s still laughing as he closes his door.

Karen finally opens her door. She looks unfairly put together and is laughing at him too. “So you met Matt. This is why you shouldn’t pass out naked in my kitchen when I was promised a night that would -- and I quote -- 'blow my mind'.”

“This is why you shouldn’t push me out into the hallway as payback because I accidentally passed out naked in your kitchen while trying to get candles.”

He’s trying to be mad, he really is. But it really was funny. And Matt was really hot. And Karen just looks so pretty.

Karen laughs and lets him in. “Put on some clothes. We’ve got a date.”


	2. Saturday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen is awkward. Foggy is a puppy. Matt is neither James Bond nor a ninja, but he likes to think he is.

Foggy and Karen both shower -- one long, long shower that really could have been two separate showers anyway -- and Foggy feels much more human for it, They’re sitting in boxers and T-shirts -- all Foggy’s -- and eating eggs in a basket and Foggy is staring fondly at the damp curls of hair around Karen’s ears when he thinks to ask --

“Wait -- so when did you meet Matt?”

Karen’s cheeks are a delicate pink and Foggy knows it’s not just from the heat of the shower a few minutes earlier.

“Um. Yesterday?” She probably means it to be a statement, but she’s ducking her head and picking at the yolk in her toast with her fork and not meeting Foggy’s eyes.

He grins and it’s bright and triumphant and maybe -- _maybe_ \-- a little smug. “What did you do?” He draws out the “oo” and it’s more than _maybe_ childish.

The pink turns red. “ _Nothin_ g. I-I, uh. Well, okay. It was better than him seeing me naked and smelling like a bar room floor.”

“He didn’t see anything,” Foggy says. “But granted. And he would have loved the view if he had. Could. Whatever.”

Karen looks up at Foggy just to roll her eyes at him. “I can’t tell if that’s offensive or not.”

Foggy opens him mouth and stops, frowns. “Don’t change the subject.”

Karen bites her lip and looks down again. “I kndfpshdhmdnthstrs.”

“Dude _what_?”

“I kind of pushed him down the stairs.”

Foggy chokes on his toast and egg. “That is worse. That is so, so much worse.”

“It was an accident!” She cries out, stabbing pointedly at him with her fork. “And he didn’t fall. Well, not _all_ the way.”

Foggy waves his hand in front of his face. “Wait, wait, wait. From the top.”

Karen sighs and crosses her arms. “Okay, so after I got back from work yesterday I realized I was out of eggs. And I knew you were coming over later and I like it when you make me eggs.” Foggy smiles triumphantly _(read: smugly)_ again, and Karen flips him off. “So I left to go get some. But I was checking my texts as I was going downstairs, so I didn’t see -- don’t you dare, Franklin Nelson -- I didn’t see him. And. Well. I ran into him on like the last step and he dropped on of his boxes and fell on the landing.” Foggy waits to see if he can laugh yet. “I caught his cane, though.”

Then Foggy laughs.

“Oh my _God_. You pretty much beat up a blind guy, and I thought _mine_ was awkward.”

Karen throws her napkin at him. “He was really nice about it. Joked about the whole thing.”

“Tell me he said, ‘ _Sorry -- didn’t see you there_ ’.” Foggy can’t catch his breath for a full minute after Karen nods. “He’s perfect. He’s like a perfect human-duck with pretty hair and a law degree.”

“ _Foggy._ ”

“ _Karen_. He makes blind jokes. And totally invited me to show up naked at his apartment. _With you_.”

Karen’s still giggling a little. “And he goes to Josie’s.”

“And Josie actually _likes_ him.”

“And he clearly doesn’t like Landman & Zach.”

“And he’s funny.”

“And he’s _pretty_.”

They’re smiling at each other from across the table, feet linked together underneath. Foggy nods. “And he’s pretty.”

Karen frowns a little suddenly. “What if he thinks it’s weird?”

“What’s weird?” Foggy asks. “Oh, you mean the whole ‘hey wanna join the fuck-puddle?’ thing?”

Karen kicks him. “Well, yes. But I was hoping we’d go at it with more tact.”

Foggy shrugs. “You’re pretty, I’m pretty, he’s pretty. It’d be a really pretty fuck-puddle. I do have tact, you know. I managed to trip you into bed.”

“That means we’re wearing pants when we go over.”

Foggy sighs dramatically. “ _Fine_.”

Karen puts on a rare pair of jeans and a tee shirt. Foggy dons the same, but it’s not so rare on him.

She flips him off when he comments. “We’re helping him unpack. I’m not exactly going to wear a dress.”

He holds up his hands in surrender before going into a gallant bow. “Forgive me, dear queen.”

Karen strikes a haughty pose. “I suppose I could forgive your insolence just this once, knave.”

They both burst into giggles.

“Hopefully Matt’s a massive dork, too,” Foggy says as they’re stepping outside, turning to face Karen.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m so suave I’m practically James Bond.”

Foggy freezes, still looking at Karen. She’s still laughing but this time it’s at him rather than with him.

“Dude, seriously. Your timing is terrible.”

Turning to look at Matt/Handsome Duck, the man in question is practically beaming. One hand is still holding his cane, the other clutching a trash bag full of paper-y looking material.

"I mean, you’ve set a low bar for yourselves. From here on out it should be really easy to improve on my impressions.”

Karen laughs, sweet and musical. Foggy feels his own face break out in a grin. “I’m normally a lot less abusive, but Foggy pretty much stays an awkward puppy.”

Matt laughs. “People keep telling me to get a dog. You guys go ahead inside. There’s beer in the fridge -- pretty much the only thing in the fridge.” Matt steps away from his open door, tap tap tapping down the first couple steps. “I’m just gonna throw this in the dumpster.”

This time Foggy manages to drag his eyes away from Matt’s ass in time to say, “Awful trusting for Hell’s Kitchen.”

He’s joking, but there’s speculation in there too.

“I know where Karen lives, and I know where you work. There’s not a whole lot to steal, anyway,” he tosses over his shoulder as he rounds the corner of the landing.

For a few pregnant seconds Karen and Foggy stand side-by-side in the now empty hallway, listening to the fading sounds of Matt’s cane.

Then --

“Awkward puppy -- really?” Foggy whines. “That’s my descriptor? Not exactly sexy.”

Karen laughs again, stepping across towards Matt’s apartment. Foggy trails after her, not at all like a puppy.

As they pass the threshold, Foggy’s struck by the bareness of the apartment. Part of it is just the building, he knows. Exposed brick, giant windows, open floor plan. But Matt has a single sectional in what he guesses is the living area and a tiny table and chair near the kitchen. There’s less than a dozen boxes, and half of them are unpacked. At least Matt’s -- somehow -- managed to close off the window with a giant red curtain. It doesn’t quite reach the floor, but hey. Better than nothing.

“Thought there’d be more work,” Karen remarks absently, turning slowly to observe the room.

“I’m a minimalist.”

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Foggy spins around, clutching his chest. Matt leaning against the door jam smirking at them a little. “Are you like a blind ninja or something? It’s not even fair that you can give me a heart attack like that.”

Matt laughs and _oh God_ , Foggy thinks he’d like to marry that laugh. He sees Karen go dopey from the corner of his eye and thinks _yeah, maybe this could be a good thing_.

“Sorry, Foggy.” He stands up straight, still smiling and sets his cane down against the wall as he kicks the door closed. “It’s a little bare, I know, but I like not having to worry about tripping over stuff.” Karen bites her lip and Foggy feels kind of like an ass, but Matt’s mouth remains upturned. “Especially if I ever end up at drunk as Foggy smelled this morning.”

Foggy blinks and gapes. Karen laughs, loud and shocked. Matt’s small smiles cracks into a wide grin.

“Seriously, though. How’d you know I wasn’t wearing pants?”

Karen snorts. “You weren’t wearing _anything_.”

Matt’s laughing when he answers. “I didn’t hear any fabric rustling when we were speaking, just skin.”

Foggy blinks. “A ninja with super senses. _Awesome_.”

Matt had looked a little sheepish, almost embarrassed, and Foggy is glad when the awkward tension dissolves from his shoulders.

“Yeah, turns out that myth about blindness improving your other senses has some basis in reality.”

Karen tucks some hair behind her ear and smiles. “So you really are a blind ninja.”

“Not quite,” Matt says with a matching smile.

“Seriously, though, man. I feel like we should’ve showed up earlier. You got like all the hard stuff done,” Foggy adds, gesturing around the room. “I just waved grandly around the apartment.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t have much, and I wasn’t expecting any help at all. I bribed the movers into getting the big furniture where I wanted it.”

“Still -- set us to work,” Karen rubs her hands together. “Make us work for the beer.”

“If you insist, Ms. Page,” Matt says. “The two boxes by the kitchen have dishes and things. If you and Foggy could just start putting those in cabinets, I’d really appreciate it. I’ll have to get you to explain to me where you put everything later, but I’ll start on organizing the books.”

Foggy and Karen both nod before remembering to voice their consent and head off the the kitchen.

Foggy looks at Karen cutting open a box and Matt cross-legged holding books and he thinks again, _yeah, this could be a good thing._


	3. Saturday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt is a cat. Karen gives head massages. Foggy likes eye crinkles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God. This was just supposed to be a drabble. But now I have IDEAS.

“And then your coffee mugs are on this shelf,” Karen says cheerfully, pulling Matt’s wrist until his knuckles bump against the ceramic.

Matt’s smiling, but it seems a little forced to Foggy, not quite uncomfortable, but maybe something closer to confused.

“Thank you, guys -- for everything. It would have taken me a couple of extra hours and probably some broken dishes to finish up,” he pauses, his jaw working quickly likely he’s tasting the words before he uses them. “I know that this -- that the whole,” he stops and gestures at the room, the cabinets, himself. “That it can be weird. Annoying.”

And oh. There it is.

Karen and Foggy make eye contact, and her eyes are soft above her frown. Foggy feels his own his turn downward. He doesn’t realize how long the silence has stretched until --

“So, um. Thanks. Lemme just get my--” Matt’s fumbling for his back pocket, cheeks stained scarlet and one hand white-knuckling the counter.

Foggy cuts him off because if the next word is ‘wallet’ then he’ll either cry or punch the guy. “Buddy, the only weird thing about you if how well you style your hair. I mean, for a blind guy you look unfairly like you’ve just spent hours getting that perfectly tousled Rob Pattinson hair.”

Matt freezes. “Who?”

“Please, that reference does no justice to Matt’s hair. Also, it’s dated, even for the sighted,” Karen catches on quickly, throwing a wink at Foggy over Matt’s -- very (surprisingly) nicely muscled -- shoulder.

“Was he the pedophile from that tween vampire series?” Matt says, a little helplessly, but mostly just kind of amused. His smile isn’t twitching and his hand isn’t reaching for his pocket anymore, though.

Foggy gapes, and Karen laughs.

“Foggy, did you just inadvertently compare my new neighbor a pedophile?” Karen asks, a wicked gleam in her eye.

When she goes to rest her chin on Matt’s shoulder, he jumps. Doesn’t step away, though. No, instead Foggy watches him lean against the counter instead of gripping it for dear life, thereby lowering his shoulder to a more comfortable chin-resting height.

Foggy blames the unfairly attractive picture they make for his sputtering.

“O-okay, hold one one minute there. Robert Pattinson is a beautiful man with thick, luscious hair that people actually do spend hours on. _Twilight_ was a fluke. And he killed it as Cedric Diggory.”

Matt frowns and pats his head. “It dries like this.”

Karen plants a quick noisy kiss to his temple before dancing back towards the fridge. “Sure it, does.”

Matt’s fingers move to where her lips had just been, and he looks a little shell-shocked. Foggy beams at him even though he knows Matt can’t see it.

“Anyone want a ‘yay, we didn’t break anything’ beer?” Karen calls from the open fridge, already pulling out the bottles.

“Yes!” Foggy crows. “I just did a completely obnoxious fist-pump by the way.”

Matt blinks, swallows. “Hmm. Oh, yes please. And somehow I’m not surprised. About the first pump, that is. The not breaking anything part is a little shocking.”

“Hardy har,” Foggy says as Karen hands him his beer. It’s in a nice bottle, but it’s a brand Foggy doesn’t recognize.

“C’mon, let’s go to the couch.” Karen taps Matt’s arm, and he hooks his fingers into the crook of her elbow as he grabs the offered bottle with his other hand.

“Lead the way.”

Foggy flings himself _(strategically)_ on the center cushion.Karen laughs and sits next to him, thighs bumping against each other. Matt _(disappointingly)_ sits on the armrest, but _(adorably)_ tucks his socked feet under Foggy’s thigh.

“So, tell me about yourselves,” Matt says, rolling the bottle between his palms. “Foggy mentioned you guys met at Landman & Zach? Karen mostly just talked about how badly she wanted eggs.”

Karen’s face is scarlet as Foggy laughs, but she answers anyway.

“Yeah. I’ve been a receptionist there for, like, a year and a half now? We met when Foggy started his internship six months ago.”

“For all the glamour and cash that is corporate law, I gotta tell you, buddy -- it fucking sucks,” Foggy takes a swig before continuing. “Karen is the bright spot in a sea of corporate black.”

Matt’s smiling and Karen leans her head on his shoulder.

“You both seem pretty black to me,” Matt says offhandedly as he takes his own drink.

“No, we’re b-” Karen starts then stops. Leans up. “Was that a blind joke?”

Foggy snorts. “Not even a very good one.”

“Ah, but you both _saw_ what I did there.”

Foggy and Karen both erupt into undignified giggles and snorts while Matt grins unabashedly.

“You’re a dork,” Foggy says and then turns to Karen. “I’m so glad he’s a dork.”

Matt flips them off, but he’s smiling still. “So are you guys from around here?”

“Yeah. I mean, I was born and raised in Hell’s Kitchen. Went to Columbia for law. Came right back, though. Karen, though…”

“I’m actually from Vermont. I always loved the idea of New York, though, so I moved down here a few years ago.”

Matt nods along. His toes tap absently under Foggy’s thigh. “Foggy, where do you live? Or are you and Karen living together?”

Karen snorts. “Half of his stuff is at my place, so the latter.”

Foggy holds up his hands. “I pay rent via cooking, okay? And I’ve been looking for a place. Right now I live in my parents’ sub-basement. Those student loans are a bitch.”

Thankfully, Matt laughs are he doesn’t turn all judge-y like Foggy’s ex friends-with benefits Marci had.

“Trust me, I understand. The only reason I haven’t resorted to homelessness is because of an old insurance pay-out.” Matt take a drink with a frown. Foggy thinks he hadn’t really meant to say that.

The moment stretches a heartbeat too long, and now it’s awkward.

“Okay, so I’ve been dying to ask,” Foggy says, a little too loud on purpose. “How the fuck did you manage to get that curtain up?”

And Matt laughs and Karen smiles. Foggy and Karen listen to Matt, and Matt and Karen listen to Foggy, and Matt and Foggy listen to Karen. Six beers later and Foggy looks at his phone.

“Oh shit!”

Karen had moved to the other corner of the couch two beers ago, half laying, and Foggy’s been laying on her lap. Matt isn’t perched on the armrest anymore but instead decided that laying on top of the couch like a cat was his best decision.

Matt frowns and swats at Foggy’s face. Like a cat.

“What?” Karen asks, stopping her hand where it had been brushing his hair.

“Guys, it’s like one in the morning.”

“Ugggh,” Matt groans, burying his face in the couch. Foggy isn’t so drunk that he doesn’t miss how Matt leaves his hand on Foggy’s cheek.

“What’re you whining about?” Karen asks. Her other hand moves to massage Matt’s head. This time the groan is more of a moan and Foggy is glad he’s the one laying on Karen’s lap instead of the other way around.

“I have Church in the morning,” Matt mumbles into the cushion.

If they hadn’t already talked about religion and how “amazing” Pope Francis was around beer three after Foggy made some ill advised -- but still funny -- joke, his heart might’ve seized up a little at that. Instead he knows that Matt’s first kiss was with a skinny kid named Steve in an alley after someone tried to steal Matt’s glasses.

So he laughs and licks the part of Matt’s palm that on his mouth.

“Grooooooss,” Matt says, swiping the spit on Foggy’s shirt. “Kareeeeen. Foggy licked me.”

Karen laughs and scratches both of their heads. Their simultaneous groans do not give Foggy ideas. None at all.

Matt makes disappointed seal noises that Foggy refuses to find adorable as he swings his legs over the back of the couch to stand. From this angle, Foggy can almost see Matt’s eyes under the lenses. They crinkle when he smiles down at them.

“I’m going to bed. I’m not sure whether to pray not to have a hangover or prepare to confess to excess.”

“Probably both,” Foggy supplies.

Matt laughs. “Yeah, probably. You guys are welcome to my couch if you don’t feel like walking the ten feet to Karen’s.”

“Thanks, but I think we’ll manage,” Karen says with a smile. The hand that had been on Matt’s head is resting on his hand now.

“If you wanna come to Karen’s after Mass, I make some badass hangover food,” Foggy reaches up to his other hand and pats it.

Matt smiles and Foggy wants to kiss his eye crinkles. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’ll probably be home around ten, if that’s alright.”

“Perfect,” Karen and Foggy say simultaneously, maybe a little too quickly.

“It’s a date,” Matt says. Foggy notices his cheeks are red and doesn’t know if it was from the alcohol or if it’s something else. “Goodnight, guys.”

“Goodnight,” Karen and Foggy say at the same time. If he wasn’t a little drunk and a little in love with her, he might’ve been weirded out by their new found telepathy.

He can hear Matt laughing down the hall.

Karen looks down at Foggy, and Foggy looks up at Karen, and when they smile they don’t need to ask each other why.

Later, when Foggy and Karen are laying in bed, naked and sated and just cuddling, they’ll look at each other and smile, the space between their heads just big enough to fit a third and they won’t need words then either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is almost as lovely as couch cuddles.


	4. Sunday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy sings Taylor Swift. Karen is good at making pancakes. Matt has excellent manners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad your guys are enjoying this trainwreck of a fic as much as I am. Every review and kudos made smile smile.

When Foggy wakes up, it’s to the knowledge that Karen has stolen the blankets, his feet are numb, and his phone was created by the Devil.

“F’ggyyyyy,” Karen says -- whines -- from her blanket cocoon. “Make it shut up.”

“Ngh,” Foggy replies, but rolls over to slap the snooze on his phone. “Why did I have an alarm set on Sun-- oh _shit_.”

Foggy snaps upright and immediately falls back to the pillows when he gets hit with a headrush. His head vaguely aches and his mouth tastes terrible and he’s still tired, but his alarm had been labeled GO MAKE SEDUCTION/HANGOVER EGGS.

“What are you ta--- ohhhhh,” Karen says as she leans up on an elbow to look at him. “What time is it?”

“9:15,” Foggy says. “If we actually get up and don’t dawdle in the shower, I’ll have food mostly ready by ten.”

Karen leans over and kisses him on the nose. “I like him too.”

Her smile is sweet and soft and Foggy has never felt more blessed.

“Have I told you I loved you lately?” He asks.

“Mmm,” she hums. “I love you too.”

“He’s just so nice and cute and sad and lonely. Karen, he had nobody to help him move in. He had to _bribe his movers_ to put his furniture where he wanted it. He _needs_ us.”

Karen drops her elbow so that her chin is on his chest and she can look up at him. “I _know_. I want to wrap him in a blanket and feed him rainbows after I finish licking his entire body.”

Foggy pauses.

“Have I told you I loved you lately?”

Karen’s laugh does wonders for his hangover.

“C’mon. We’ll do one quick shower -- _no touching_ \-- and I’ll make pancakes to go with the eggs.”

Foggy sighs dramatically, but gets up to follow her to the bathroom. “You’re not making the coffee, though.”

“And for that I’m serious about the no touching.”

Fifteen minutes later and the discovery that yes, Karen was serious about the no touching part, and Foggy and Karen were half naked in the bedroom.

“Oh my god, why is this so hard?” Karen whines. “He can’t even see what we’re wearing.”

Foggy wrinkles his nose as he fingers the fabric of a dress. “Because we are sad and pathetic and old habits die hard and please don’t wear office clothes. We’re seducing him, not interviewing him.”

Karen hangs up a few of the dresses. “I don’t want to just _sleep_ with him. And what about a sundress?” She holds up a pretty blue flowy thing. It’s a halter top that comes a few inches above her knees.

“Me neither. But I do also want to sleep with him. The friendship bit is firmly in motion, though. And yes, definitely. I like that.”

“Wear your nice jeans and the dark blue shirt. And true. Matt’s too adorable to avoid the friend-crush and too hot to avoid the regular crush.”

Foggy sighs and nods emphatically as he picks up his clothes. “He just kind of _fits_ , you know?”

Karen and Foggy both slide on their clothes and look each other up and down.

Karen smiles at him softly, smoothing his shirt on his shoulders. “Yeah, Foggy. I know. A little icing to our cake.” She kisses the corner of his lip. “Now come on. Let’s start on breakfast. My head still hurts and I want hangover food.”

Moving into the kitchen, Foggy wishes he could say that they danced around each other like in the movies. But instead they bump into each other every few steps and Karen spills flour on the floor and Foggy gets egg on the counter. But they’re also smiling and Karen’s laughing as Foggy sings along to the Taylor Swift song playing on his Pandora station and maybe this is better.

“Do you think Matt likes Taylor Swift?” Foggy asks as he whips the eggs when the song ends.

Karen pauses where she’s mixing the batter. “I think he’ll like making fun of your singing Taylor Swift.”

Foggy gasps in mock offense. “He’s a dork. He might join in.”

When Karen says, “One can only hope,” Foggy chokes on his own spit.

Foggy’s just mixing chives into the eggs when they hear a gentle knock at the door. Karen looks up from where she’s flipping a banana pancake and their smiles are blinding.

“Come in, buddy,” Foggy hollers, reaching for his laptop to turn down the music. “Door’s open!”

“A little trusting for Hell’s Kitchen, isn’t it?” Matt says cheekily as he pulls the door open.

Foggy turns to make some kind of snarky remark, but his words catch in his throat.

Matt is wearing a suit. A suit that looks very, very nice on him. Foggy swallows.

“Smells good,” Matt says, oblivious to Foggy’s raging blush.

“Foggy made scrambled eggs with cheese and chives. I’ve got banana pancakes and plain pancakes,” Karen says brightly.

Matt laughs. “I meant the coffee, but that too.”

“Oh! Here,” Foggy walks quickly across the room with a mug in hand to where Matt is _taptaptap_ ing towards their voices.

“Thank you,” Matt says sincerely. “Apparently my coffeemaker got broken in the move. I wanted to die a little in Church.”

Karen and Foggy both laugh.

“Shall we?” Foggy says, exaggerated like a Disney Prince, and holds his arm out.

Matt laughs and his smile is small and genuine. His fingers are light in the crook of Foggy’s elbow as they walk over to the kitchen. He lets the cane dangle from the strap on his wrist as he holds the coffee.

Foggy takes Matt’s hand and rests it on the back of a chair at the breakfast table. His elbow tingles where Matt’s fingers had been.

Matt takes a deep drink from the mug and sighs happily. “This is really good coffee.”

Foggy shoots a triumphant look at Karen who makes a nasty face back.

“I just looked victoriously at Karen and she gave me a ‘shut the fuck up’ face,” Foggy notes.

Matt raises his eyebrows. “I’m guessing that means you made the coffee, Foggy?”

“He regularly insults my coffee. Says it takes like dishwater,” Karen explains as she walks over with a plate of pancakes and a pan of eggs.

“Well, your pancakes smell delicious,” Matt says diplomatically.

“Ooooh, I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Karen says.

Matt sets down his half-drained mug. “How can I help?”

Foggy open his mouth to say _no, we’ve got it. just relax._ but he sees Matt’s hand clenched on the chair and the nervous way he’s licking his lips and thinks maybe Matt feels a little awkward and useless.

Karen is apparently much smarter and quicker than Foggy is because she says, “Oh! Yes, please. Do you mind laying out the plates? Our apartments have the same layout and I kind of set up the kitchens the same, so they’re in the same place yours are.” Karen freezes and her hands go to her mouth. “Oh god, that’s weird, isn’t it? I swear I wasn’t --”

Matt cuts her off with a soft laugh. His hand relaxes on the chair. “Don’t worry about it. Old habits die hard and all that.”

He makes his way over to the kitchen _taptaptap_ ing at the floor ahead of him. He’s surprisingly confident in the new environment, so Foggy figures that he’s settling in well to his own apartment.

“Plus now I know where to steal silverware from when I’m too lazy to do my dishes,” Matt says with a smirk as he grabs the plates from an upper cabinet with only a little fumbling. He doesn’t use the cane on the walk back.

Matt sets down the plates and for a moment it’s a little awkward. Then --

“Would you like a tour before or after breakfast? The basic layout’s the same as your place, but, you know, different furniture, decor,” Karen asks, biting at her lip.

 

Matt smiles. “After would be lovely, thank you. Right now my brain is still trying to leak out my ears and I’m hoping I’m not the only one whose stomach is trying to digest itself.”

“Not at all, my perfectly coiffed, devilishly handsome, hungover friend,” Foggy says, gently grabbing one of Matt’s shoulders. He only jumps a little and Foggy counts it as a win.

Foggy pulls out Karen’s chair and Matt’s, and when he gets a smile and thank you from Karen followed by an outright laugh and a _my, my, my -- we have a gentleman among us,_ he counts it as two wins. Maybe even three.

Foggy dishes out the eggs in three even portions, and Karen lays a banana pancake on her and Foggy’s plates before asking, “Plain or banana, Matt?”

“Plain, please,” Matt says, smiling as he folds up his cane and tucks it under a thigh.

“We have butter, syrup, or peanut butter for pancakes. Salt and pepper for the eggs -- and ketchup, if you’re as much of a heathen as I am,” Foggy ticks off, holding up fingers for each item.

“I’m good, thank you,” Matt says.

“You have manners good enough to make Mama Nelson cry tears of joy,” Karen remarks as she scoops a spoonful of peanut butter on the pancake. “And that’s saying something.”

Matt’s cheeks turn pink. Foggy and Karen meet eyes, and they’re both smiling, silly and a little pink-cheeked too.

“Karen and I are grinning like loons because that blush is downright adorable,” Foggy says. The pink turns red. “Awwwww,” he coos.

Matt swats at him with a fork and a frown, but his lips are twitching like he wants to smile. “I grew up with Catholic nuns. Of course I say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, And I think that’s the first time I’ve been accused of being adorable.”

Karen scoffs and stabs at her eggs. “Please. If people aren’t calling you adorable to your face, they’re definitely thinking it.”

"Nuns? Really? I kind of thought that only happened in movies," Foggy says idly. Then facepalms. "Jesus Christ. We are incapable of behaving like polite, normal human beings."

Matt's not blushing anymore, but his mouth is twisted in a soft, sad smile. "I like the honesty, really. People tend to treat me like glass most of the time. This is... nice."

Matt ducks his head to cut off some pancake. Karen and Foggy smile at each other before eating as well. This silence is comfortable and warm. Nice.

"The food is definitely better than the nuns', though," Matt suddenly says. "I don't think they really understood the concept of seasoning."

It startles twin laughs out of Karen and Foggy.

"Did I ever tell you about how my mom wanted me to be a butcher?"

Matt raises his eyebrows and Karen groans, but they both listen intently as Foggy goes on about free deli meat.

This -- this is nice. Very nice, Foggy thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christ. This is plotless fluff. I'm so sorry.


	5. Another Friday Night (Two Months Later)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen has the best idea. Matt loves vodka. Foggy loses at a drinking game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's THE chapter.

Two months pass and Foggy and Karen get to know things about Matt.

Some of them are important things.

Things like he was blinded by chemicals when he was nine and that his dad died a year later.

(Foggy feels sick when he Googles it later because Matt only mentions it in passing and _wow I don't want to step on that landmine_ because he can't -- _he can't_ \-- hurt Matt. He remembers some the news stories. Him and Karen can’t speak when they read that Matt found his father shot in an alley. Matt doesn’t really talk about it.)

Things like how he didn’t take the internship at Landman & Zach because he overheard one of the bosses talking about how the only reason they hired Matt was to fill a quota.

(Foggy has trouble not punching the guy at work the next day and 'accidentally' runs into the man and knocks over his coffee. Karen tells him the wrong time for his meeting.)

Things like how he almost went to Columbia too, but University of Chicago offered a full ride.

(Foggy wishes they hadn't because maybe he would have met Matt earlier, but then he feels guilty for even thinking it. Then guiltier because he still wishes it.)

Things like how Matt missed New York and Hell's Kitchen and he's glad he came back.

(Matt blushes when he says that and won't look at Foggy or Karen. Karen and Foggy fist bump later.)

Things like how Matt has loved people, even romantically -- a woman named Claire -- but has never been in love, not really, not _enough_ for him or his partner.

(Foggy and Karen love her for loving Matt even after the relationship ended, and when they meet her at the hospital after Matt gets a concussion, they get it. She smiles when she sees them, knowing and smug. She winks when they volunteer to watch him overnight instead of a hospital stay.)

Some of them don’t seem to be important things.

(They still are.)

Things like the firm he did end up working for is only two blocks away from Landman & Zach and he’s never been to Karen and Foggy’s favorite bakery one block from both firms.

(They take him to _The Bread Room_ and Natasha gives Matt a free cup of coffee and Clint lets him pet Lucky. Matt’s moan when he drinks the coffee leads to a really frustrating afternoon of  _want_ for Foggy and Karen.)

Things like Matt is an excellent boxer and owns a ridiculous number of shirts with the arms cut off.

(Foggy and Karen help him hang a punching bag in the living room. The first time they walk in on a very enthusiastic workout leads to a really fun night of fantasy for Foggy and Karen.)

Things like beer might turn Matt into some kind of couch-hanging-sloth, but vodka? Vodka makes Matt _curious_ and _honest_.

(Matt’s not a liar, not exactly, but Foggy’s noticed that he’s _private_ and _avoids_ things.)

(Foggy loves vodka.)

\--

It starts on a Friday night when Matt messages their group text.

(Foggy used to love text speak and Karen used to speak almost exclusively through emojis, but both are hard for Matt’s phone to translate. They joke about how Matt’s done more for their grammar than grade school and college combined.)

**Matt:**

**> >If I punch my client in the face do you think a jury would convict me?**

**Foggy:**

**> >I’d represent you pro bono**

**Karen:**

**> >Alcohol is a less illegal coping mechanism**

**Matt:**

**> >VODKA**

It starts with a liquor store run and Foggy and Karen staring at a wall of bottles.

"Normally we get the cheap one," Foggy says when Karen grabs a moderately prices bottle.

"Not tonight," Karen responds, biting her lip. "Foggy, you know I love you, right?"

Foggy kisses her on the mouth and grabs the bottle. "And I love you. And I really love that we're both in love with Matt."

They end up buying the expensive bottle.

It starts with Karen and Foggy letting themselves into Matt’s apartment with the spare key he gave them and seeing Matt sprawled on his couch. His jacket is thrown to the side and his tie is off and his shirt is halfway unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up and his hair is wrecked and _goddamn_.

“I am going to throw Tony Stark out a window.”

“What’d he do now?” Karen asks when she goes to set down the bottle.

“Inviting your lawyer to a threesome when he’s defending you from sexual harassment charges is ironic, no?”

Foggy winces and gets the shot glasses.

It starts with two shots each and Karen declaring they need a drinking game and Foggy vetoing any kind of card game because Matt has a scary good poker face.

“What about a movie drinking game?” Foggy suggests. “You know, take a sip every time Keanu Reeves defies physics, a shot every time someone talks like Yoda.”

“I don’t want to die,” Karen whines.

“Well what do you want to do -- play Never Have I Ever?” Matt asks sarcastically.

Karen beams and Foggy laughs.

It starts with a text and a trip to the liquor story and a spare key and shots and a game of Never Have I Ever.

It doesn’t end there, though.

"Never have I ever gotten in a fist fight,” Foggy declares, four fingers left.

Karen and Matt both put down a finger. Foggy is utterly unsurprised. Karen has four fingers left now, too. Matt is sitting pretty with six.

They both glare as they drink.

“Ugh. Why are we playing this with vodka again?” Karen asks, grimacing as she swallows her shot.

Matt smiles, dopey and loose as he leans against Foggy’s shoulder. “I like vodka.”

Foggy snorts. “Lightweight.” He nudges Matt’s shoulder, and he rocks a little, still smiling that ridiculous smile.

“My turn!” Karen exclaims. She’s got her legs thrown over them both. Foggy’s ridiculously proud that Matt is sitting in the middle. “Never have I ever gone skydiving.”

Matt’s finger goes down and he swallows a shot before Foggy can pick his jaw up off the floor.

“Dude, you’re _blind_. Is that even legal?” Foggy asks, more than a little bewildered.

“It was a tandem jump,” Matt says, smacking his lips. “‘s fun. You guys should try it.” He pauses, wiggling his now five fingers. “Never have I recorded myself having sex.”

Karen blinks. Foggy snorts.

“You guys both put fingers down,” Matt says smugly when he hears the bottle pouring.

Foggy swallows and cringes at the burn. “It’s fun. You should try it sometime, see how you like it.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t _see_ your point,”Matt says as he cackles.

Karen giggles and Foggy smiles, and things are not nearly as weird as they could be.Things... things are good. Warm and tingly and happy and not really weird at all.

“Never have I ever had a threesome,” Foggy says.

Karen smiles, bright and sharp. She puts a finger down. Foggy puts a finger down.

Matt puts a finger down.

“We’re all massive sluts,” Foggy declares triumphantly, pouring out the shots.

“Did you put a finger down for your own turn?” Matt asks. “Is that against the rules?”

Matt’s cheeks are pink. Karen licks her lips and sits up.

“Fuck the rules,” Karen says, and holds up her shot.

“Fuck the rules,” Foggy agrees, hand in the air.

“Fuck the rules!” Matt grins and they all down the shot.

“Vodka should not go down that smoothly, buddy,” Foggy says as he motions for Karen to pass him the bottle of cranberry juice.

“‘m ex was Russian,” Matt says. He’s still smiling, head lolled onto Foggy’s shoulder and one leg now stretched onto Karen’s knees.

“Sounds like she fits all the stereotypes,” Karen says. “He did. Whatever.”

“He really did,” Matt giggles. “His name was even _Vladimir._ ”

“Your life is a joke, Mur _dork_ ,” Foggy says.

Matt opens his mouth. Closes it. “I have no witty response prepared for that.”

The game goes on and Foggy can taste something in the air, feel it tingling on his skin where Matt’s head rests on his shoulder and Karen’s legs sit atop his own.

“Never have I ever dated two people at once.” Karen and Foggy have two fingers left. Matt has three.

“Never have I ever had someone walk in on me having sex.” Foggy loses a finger.

“Never have I ever cheated on someone.” All fingers stay up.

“Never have I ever been in love.”

Karen’s finger goes down.

Foggy’s finger goes down.

And Matt’s…

Matt’s goes down too.

\--

Foggy’s head lolls to the side to look at the almost entirely empty bottle of vodka on the floor.

Matt giggles.

Foggy throws his head to the other side, maybe a little too fast because now everything is spinning and asks -- “Wha’?”

“I have the spins.”

“You’re _blind_ ,” Karen says emphatically from where she’s now laying on Foggy’s lap. “How do you have the spins?”

Matt makes a face -- a horrible, not at all attractive scrunchy face that makes Foggy want to lick him -- from where he’s laying on the floor on top of Foggy’s feet.

“That only makes it worse. I can’t, like, focus on stuff. It’s like when you played Marco Polo as a kid and they made you close your eyes and spin round and round and round and round --” Matt pauses for a breath “-- and round.”

“And round?” Foggy adds helpfully.

“ _Yes_ ,” Matt practically moans.

Karen makes a noise, too, but that one Foggy tries to ignore. He shifts in his seat.

“Matt?

“Mhmm,” Matt hums agreeably.

Matt’s been nothing but agreeable all night. Agreeable and honest and curious and apparently _in love_.

“I thought you said you’d never been in love before,” Karen says. Her arm's dangled over the couch to run a hand through his hair. Her words are a little slurred, consonants dull and soft.

Matt scrunches his face again. “I _hadn’t_. Not _before_. Duh.”

The tingling spreads from the points of contact between Matt and Foggy and Karen and Foggy and-- and--

“C’mere,” he says, voice soft and happy, reaching down to tug on Matt’s arm.

“Okay,” Matt’s voice is barely a breath.

Karen shifts to sit up more, curled around Foggy’s side. Together they pull and arrange Matt so that he’s half on top of both of them, nestled in the middle.

There are two empty cushions. None of them move to spread out.

Matt licks his lips and breathes. Karen sighs and leans in.

Then, then --

\-- he's stumbling backwards and _are those silk sheets?_ \--

\-- Karen’s teeth are on his wrist and Matt’s shirt is coming off --

\-- he’s moaning and holding Matt’s head while he sucks a bruise onto Karen’s throat --

\-- _Jesus_ it's tight and hot and Matt's breaths are high and fast --

\-- Karen’s throwing her head back, her breasts bouncing --

\-- “Foggy, _faster_ ,” Matt begs, clutching at Karen’s thighs --

\-- it's quiet.

Foggy's in a tangle of limbs he doesn't want to unknot. Someone's breath is hot and dam on his neck. Soft hair tickles his nose.

"Matt?" Foggy says.

"Yeah?" The breath by his neck puffs out.

"I'm in love with you."

"Me too, for the record," the lump of hair under his nose moves when Karen speaks. "I'm in love with both of you."

The breath on his neck stutters and then smooths out. Matt rolls so that he's sitting up. Foggy opens his eyes, maybe a little afraid, and tightens his grip on Karen.

Matt is _beaming_.

"I'm in love with you, too, Foggy," Matt says and leans in for a kiss, soft and sweet and in sharp contrast to earlier. "And I'm in love with you, too, Karen." Karen gets a kiss just as soft and sweet.

Matt is still smiling, ridiculous and loopy, and Karen looks like she had when Foggy told her he loved her, and Foggy can feel his cheeks aching.

Matt lays back down, and the Karen and Foggy sandwich Matt's hand in between theirs.

It's quiet for a moment and then --

"I told you we'd make a really pretty fuckpuddle."

Matt's laugh makes Karen smacking his chest completely worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your encouragement and support guys. It means the world to me.
> 
> One more chapter left to go.


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guacamole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Tis the end of this story.

The room is big and musty and there’s no central heat or AC. Foggy can see at least two roaches scuttling in the corner. There are cobwebs -- or maybe spiderwebs -- on the ceiling. The realtor coughs a little as she leads them around and can’t quite hide her grimace.

But there are two offices, a conference room, and a reception area, and Matt is smiling -- wide and bright and so much like the sun -- and Karen is smiling -- small and sweet and like a rainbow after a storm -- and Foggy is smiling too -- huge and dorky and so in love with these two idiots and this ugly, awful office space. 

“If you could just give my colleagues and me a moment to discuss,” Matt says, tucking away the sun behind his serious lawyer face when the realtor turns around. 

“Of course,” she says demurely, not even bothering to hide her hungry examination of Matt. “I’ll just be right outside if you need me.  _ For anything _ ,” she adds, grabbing at Matt’s forearm. 

Matt nods, a small dismissive smile on his face. 

(Foggy’s glad he isn’t a jealous person, glad he’s never really understood it as an emotion because it’s  _ ugly _ and  _ unhappy _ . Mostly he’s just happy that Matt and Karen in all their modelesque glory are massive dorks and that nobody but the three of them know about how Matt squeaks if you tickle the palm of his hand or how Karen used to have her nipples pierced or how Foggy has a bald patch on his calf.)

The three of them wait until her heels  _ clickclackclick _ out the door and it closes behind her to break into wide, half manic grins again.

“Boys, we’re going to have our own firm,” Karen says, and her eyes are sparkling.

“With real desks and offices and a  _ plaque _ ,” Foggy adds reverently. 

“Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law, along with Lead Investigator Page,” Matt’s eye crinkles are out in full force. 

“Oh my God, this is  _ real _ _,_ ” Karen says.

Foggy lean in and kisses her, hard and close mouthed, smiling into it. They break about laughing, breathing each others' air. 

“I can hear you kissing,” Matt sing-songs.

Foggy and Karen make eye contact and lean in two kiss the corners of Matt’s mouth, a little softer, a little sweeter. .

“Can you now,” Foggy breathes against his cheek.

Matt wraps his arms around Karen and Foggy, crushing them against his chest, nose pressed in between their heads. Sometimes Foggy forgets how strong Matt is under all the sunshine smiles and eye crinkles and casual Thurgood Marshall quotes. He likes this reminder.

Suddenly Matt snorts and loosens his grip. Karen and Foggy both step back, still smiling and happy but more than a little bemused.

“What?” Karen asks.

“Guacamole,” Matt manages through a wheezy laugh. 

Suddenly it click in Foggy’s mind, a drunken night when Karen had been visiting some old college friends a few weeks ago, and he’s laughing too, sharp and shocked.

“ _ What ? _ ” Karen asks again, laughing at them laughing. 

Matt and Foggy are leaning against each other a little, laughing breathlessly. 

“Be-because we’re avo- _ avocados _ a-and,” Matt tries to get out.

“Y-you’re aaaaaall th-the stuff that ma-makes  _ avocados  _ awe-awesome,” Foggy manages to finish, too breathless to speak properly.

“You guys are both dorks and you make no damn sense,” Karen announces, amused despite herself. 

“ _ Guacamole _ ,” Matt repeats, finally catching his breath.

_ Yeah _ _ this is good. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But not the end of this AU! Stay tuned for more stories from the Guacamole 'Verse


End file.
